


Death is Only the Beginning - Discontinued

by welcometothisday



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bilbo, Could Be a One-Shot, F/M, Female Bilbo, First Fic so please do not maim, Gen, Other, Possible Prequel, alternate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:57:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometothisday/pseuds/welcometothisday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Thorin didn't break out of the gold madness until after Ravenhill? What if our hobbit found a way to free him from it? Would our hero pay the price? What will others think? What are the consequences? What if the author stopped blathering and let people read this already?</p><p>Please read me...I'm lonely and the author is being cruel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fic. I have no idea if I'm any good, so thank you for spending your time reading this blasphemous material that will most likely send Tolkien bawling in his grave.

Gandalf was old, older than he could bear sometimes. That's why he enjoyed hobbits and their mirth. Their small acts of kindness. The hobbits were capable of so much, and lived their lives contentedly. He remembered one hobbit in particular. Her name was Belle, the daughter of an old friend of his.

The mischievous thing had the ability to sneak up on him whilst he slept and planted flowers in his beard and hair. He recalled how she played in the sunshine with a toy sword, raving on about going adventuring. There was something about her, a potential possibly greater than even her mother's.

He badly wanted to take her on an adventure, never really considering that if he could do it, whether or not he should. At least, not until it was too late.

Belle stared at Gandalf, "There is a way to break him free of this madness? Permanently?"

Gandalf nodded, telling her about a legend, wistful until he saw her fumbling with something "...Belle, what are you doing?"

She placed a golden ring in a handful of cloth, "I found this in the goblin caves. It turns me invisible. However, I feel chilled whenever I touch it and, I swear voices have been coming from it. There is something sinister, and glowing writing came from it when dragon fire touched it..." She looked Gandalf in the eye. "Please, destroy it; I cannot be trusted with it. Even now it calls to me. I do not wish what happened to Thorin to consume me."

Gandalf stared at the object, wondering briefly why she would give it to him now of all times. However, his mind was too distracted by the gold piece's presence. Darkness lay around it, and he was glad that Belle had the forethought to cover it. It did not take long to hear the voices, as they sang in Black Speech. Yes, he knew what the ring was. It was the One Ring if what she said was true.

The wizard looked back up to speak to his friend, only to find her running, straight towards Ravenhill. That's when he understood. She wasn't planning on coming back. He made to run himself, to chase after her, but his wounds were too great. He called for help, any help to stop her. No one could hear him over the sounds of battle. Gandalf pleaded for anyone that could hear him; do not let Thorin harm his hobbit. If she died, it would be his fault for telling her, for bringing her on the journey, for ridding the world on a precious light that should never have been wasted in the world of shadows.

.................................................

Thranduil never understood the hobbit. She was deceitful and sneaky, as shown when she broke the dwarves free from his prisons, and when she stole the Arkenstone. She was truly a criminal. Yet, there was another side to her as well. She was soft, vulnerable. How could something such as her be so contradicting? Why would something so small and breakable go to such lengths for those who didn't deserve it? She was either very brave, or very stupid. He still couldn't tell which after that fool choked her on the ramparts, but she did earn some respect from him.

They barely one another, but he could see why Bard and his family learned to care about the creature in such short time. He recalled how fierce she had been when she defended the dwarves, even when she suspected what was coming. She was stubborn, reckless, and foolhardy, like his son, and his wife.

In fact, found out later on, that she shared a lot in common with his wife. More so than he thought. She was selfless and constantly concerned for others when she should have worried about herself.  Her heart, was something to admire. He owed her his life after she prevented a mountain troll from killing him during the battle. He never got to repay it.

Seeing her on the battlefield made him relive the moment his beloved perished. He failed another who needed him most. For once, he understood the dwarf king. For once, he didn't feel the urge to point out how the king did the very thing he swore he'd never do. All Thranduil felt was a heavy heart, and knew that the other king's was no doubt heavier.

................................................

Nori had hated the hobbit even before meeting her. He was a proper thief, a true burglar. He hadn't understood or accepted why Gandalf believed a hobbit could have ever been better than him. He learned she was better in a different way.

No, she wasn't a thief. She wasn't the kind who lied easily. She hadn't the experience to survive outside her hobbit hole. She wasn't even a fighter, or at least she hadn't appeared so at first. She was like Ori, but with no idea of how the world worked. The idea of something so innocent, with those huge eyes, stealing from a dragon was practically impossible. However, at least Ori had shown some guts at first. The lass fainted at the mere mention of incineration. No, he hadn't liked the plan or her at all.

He had started liking her, if only slightly, after she insulted the wizard the first time. It turned out she did have guts, and he cheered up slightly, hoping that she could stomach a dragon. Then she stood up against the trolls. He was still angry that she'd been caught in the first place, but he admired her quick thinking, even if the idea of parasites infuriated a majority of the Company until Thorin kicked them.

She used that thinking and bravery again and again. Every time he doubted her, she had proven him wrong. He had thought she'd leave for safety when the battle arisen, never suspecting what she planned on doing as she ran away from the wizard.

.................................................

Dori was strong, it was a fact everyone knew. He had been feared for his strength by many, yet there was one who hadn't been bothered by the knowledge. That bravery and kindness came from the smallest of creatures, with the biggest heart he had ever encountered.

She talked to him about things her enjoyed. She even teamed up with him against the wizard when Tharkun annoyed him greatly during a rain storm. She told him stories of her childhood where she got into trouble and they had laughed about it...

He hated how she attracted the worst. He hated how close she had nearly been killed again and again even though she never deserved it. Worst of all, he hated how they could never laugh about it again. That he could never see that smile for the rest of his life, or that no one else could either.

She was his friend. He had been so afraid of breaking something so beautiful, and yet, into the end, he didn't stop her from being broken...

.............................................

Ori liked Belle from the beginning. She was polite, and never controlling. They talked about drawing and exchanged knitting patterns, rolling their eyes when Bofur joked about crochet and needing balls for it. She had been just as shy as he was in the beginning, and they both grew.

He remembered her intrigue in Rivendell. They had been the only ones who could appreciate their culture, even if he hadn't like the green food at first. She helped him warm up to it. They both became warriors. She pulled him out of danger and he did the same for her whenever he could. Both irritated Dwalin to no end when he pushed them too hard during training.

She showed him the importance of life in her culture, and he loved drawing her when she was happy. Belle even taught him the language of flowers in Beorn's garden. He just never thought he'd have to use that skill one day, when he returned to the Shire. And he couldn't stop the tears as he gave them to her, one last time.

...............................................

Gloin barely dodged another attack as an orc tried to lob his head off. It was thanks to a small hobbit he did as she blocked the creature, chopping its own head off. He knew she hated it. Both he and Oin understood that life, even undeserving life, were revered by hobbits, and to take a life was practically to curse one's soul.

He could see her shuddering as she gave another yell, defending Oin. The color in her eyes were clouded, but determination lay within. There was courage there. The stubborn lass often reminded him of his Gimli and his wife, both of whom he had sworn to protect and treasure. Gloin had done the same for her, training her in the ways of battle alongside Fili and Kili.

And yet, he didn't keep his promise when Thorin nearly killed her. Not only was she hurt outwardly, but he had seen something snap inside. She had been hurt, maybe beyond fixing. Seeing her fighting again gave him some hope, even as she ran towards Ravenhill.

...................................................

Oin was a healer, but the one thing he had never been capable of healing was the mind. Oh no, he wasn't thinking about Thorin's gold sickness. He was thinking of Thorin's nightmares of Moria. The king rarley slept and when he did, it wasn't for long. At least, until the hobbit came.

She was the only one who could bring a smile out of him. Gradually, he saw Thorin rest peacefully near her, his hand reaching for her warmth. Sometime, unconsciously, she would return the gesture. Thorin became somewhat wiser, and more compassionate. The hobbit brought out the best in him. She had been healing him.

Even in gold sickness, Thorin only trusted her. He had believed in her over even the closest of his kin. Oin had hoped she could cure him of the madness. He regretted later, that she did. He hated himself for hoping such a thing, for she paid a price too high, and he found the second person, whose wounds he could not heal. He regretted it every day.

..................................................

Bombur liked Belle. Her pantry was the stuff of legends. He felt guilty after learning that Gandalf tricked her, but he admired her taste in food. He also liked that she ate seven meals a day. He didn't quite feel so lonesome, even if he never figured out where she put it all.

He also admired her. On the journey, she ate less than half the meals than she normally did. The others didn't see how it affected her, she didn't let them. However, he could. She wasn't starving herself per se, but she fought every day, sometimes refusing to eat so that the others could. She did keep down whatever food she could in Mirkwood, even though the forest made her ill.

Her strength shone though any weaknesses the others assessed. That's why he watched her carefully in Lake Town when she was ill. It was one of few times she needed to depend on someone, and he refused to let her down. Yet he failed in the end anyway. He missed her spirit, and the strength she gave...

.................................................

People thought Bifur was insane. He knew his axe frightened people. Even Belle had been a little wary of him at first, but something in her eyes was different than others. Yes, she was wary, but she looked at him like no one else had in a long time. There was no pity in her eyes, there was admiration. Why would she admire something that looked like...him?

People always avoided him. She never did. In fact she liked talking to him and did her best to understand him without encroaching onto Khuzdul. She didn't look at him like something to be studied. She didn't shy away. Even before they encountered dangers on the journey, he realized there was something more to the small being.

Nobody else understood why he took such a liking to the hobbit in the beginning, not even Bofur who came to be her best friend on the journey. When they were near each other, he could've sworn he had forgotten the woes of the world. He never forgot about the axe, but she did make the weight lighter. He would have been honored to call her queen, for he could think of no other who could have better suited the role, and he never regretted knowing her, even if she had caused him pain in the end. No, he would never regret how it felt to be real again, or how much she changed his life.

........................................................

Bofur, despite all outwards appearances, he was not friendly. In fact, he was cruel. He never wanted to get attached, for people could hurt him if he did. He enjoyed toying with people. He loved messing with people's heads. He especially loved bullying the hobbit. He especially loved making her faint when they first met. She was a new toy, something exciting. In all honesty, he had pretended being her friend at first. It was easy to hurt her, and he enjoyed it.

It all changed when she cried. She had done it away from the group, so they never saw her do it. He had assumed she was stupid and naive, for not understanding how he was treating her. In that moment, it hurt so see her cry. She knew what he was doing, and she smiled them off. Curious, he observed her. Why did she do the things she did? Why pretend everything was okay? Why did she come along and stay? He heard her whisper for her mother and father, just as he had for those he lost. As they had all lost. Bofur tried to get to know her, and found out that handkerchief was an heirloom, and one of the last things she had of her father and mother. She didn't want it just to be clean, she wanted it to be brave as she ventured into the unknown.

In the mountains, he feared losing her. It had been so close, and in that moment he realized how much he cared. That was why he said he really meant it when he wished her luck. She never deserved their cruelties. Yet, even with her doubts and a chance to be free, she stayed.

Bofur had been euphoric to see her alive and well. He hadn't felt that way since Bifur came home alive, not quite whole, but alive nonetheless. She would never know, but he had learned to love her, and to let her go when he realized how much she loved another. He wasn't in love with her, but he really did want her to have the happiness of the world. Mahal knew she earned it. Or, at least she should have. He had forgotten not to get attached, for she was good and young, and the pain never faded.

...........................................

Beorn had been angry upon seeing the hobbit. He had been locked out of his home by dwarves after all. Still, when he saw her nose twitch, he felt his anger dissipate. At least until the dwarves came out.  She hopped around nervously, skittish.  He watched her as he watched the dwarves, trying to find a reason to hate her as he did the dwarves. For, surely, she must be like-minded as them if she was willing to travel with them? She should be greedy. She should have been brutal. She should have been many things, but she wasn't.

She made a mess, but cleaned it up when she was done. She tramped around in his garden with the book-dwarf, but cared for them properly. They appeared to be blooming slightly more than when he tended to them. She stepped on one of the cats' tails, and apologized for it immediately to his friend, treating the wound carefully and gently.  The cat clung to her after that. He could find nothing that would give him a reason to hate her. Why wouldn't she let him hate her damn it?!

It only got worse when she saved his life in the Battle of the Five Armies. He hadn't noticed one of the mountain trolls head his way. She got the monster in the eye with her sword, leaving Beorn to finish it off. That's when he saw the bruises and future scars. The marks on her were from dwarf hands. He nuzzled her in his bear form, and she let loose a few tears, clutching to his fur. She was so small, and yet loyal to a fault.

Oh, how he wished he could've hated her. Maybe then, it wouldn't hurt so much...

.............................................

Balin was afraid. Oh no, he wasn't a coward, but one learned to fear many things. Even Dwalin held fear, though he did his best not to show it. Balin has lived for many years, and he had learned to fear much. He had learned to fear darkness and noises in the night. He learned to fear madness. He learned to fear dragon fire...But what he feared most of all was a hobbit.

Yes, Belle Baggins wasn't much at first. She was small, and not at all threatening. She shivered and hid often. She knew nothing of the world, but was that why she instilled so much fear? Is that why he learned to fear every moment the hobbit was in danger? Is that why his heart nearly choked him every time the hobbit was almost eaten, slain, or disappeared? It happened more often than he'd ever wanted.

Yet, he also feared those big eyes, for he could drown in them when she was sad. He felt himself swallowed when she was scared. Entranced when she was joyful. Warmed when she faced her enemies with fierce spirit. Seeing such a tiny person in the midst of battle hurt, and made him feel fear.  Later, he found the frozen fear in his chest would sink to his stomach when he discovered what the hobbit would do soon.

As she went, she skillfully threw a rock at an orc behind him, saving his life one last time. The lass did have skills with conkers after all...

................................................

Dwalin should have suspected the lass was up to something. She was always thinking, always observing, and always attracted trouble. That was why he trained her. That was why he learned to care even when he shouldn't have. Fear was on her face, but not from facing the ruddy bastards after Durin's line. No, she knew something, something she shouldn't, and she never should have learned. They never should have taken her from her home, where she had been safe.

"Where's Thorin? And Fili and Kili?"

She was hoarse. He didn't blame her for it, glancing at the finger marks around her throat. She did what no one else did, and paid for it. She should never have gotten those. Even with Thorin's madness, he should've stopped his king when he had the chance. One of the orcs got behind her and knocked her on the head. He could see that she should have been unconscious from the blow, but in her eyes something was driving her not to. As if she had something important to do. Dwalin fended off the orc as she recovered.

"Belle?" he said. "Are you all right lass?"

She was wobbling, as she closed her eyes wincing. The hobbit lass swallowed, muttering, "Ow."

Dwalin saw blood seeping from the wound. "We need to get you to Oin lass."

"No," she said. "I'm banished, remember? You cannot help me, or he will hurt you too." He said her name in shock, watching as she stood up straight, and a determined expression on her features. "Where are the boys? Where is Thorin?"

Dwalin reluctantly looked in the boys' direction, barely even hearing her feet touch the ground as she dashed towards the princes. He didn't understand why she would help them even after what his king had done. Did she not understand the dangers? Then, he knew. And he should never have let her go.

.................................................

Fili saw Belle over him, fending off an orc. As she slit the creature's throat, he asked, "Where's Kili? Where's my brother?"

Belle gasped, her lungs no doubt reaching for air, "He's supposed to be with Thorin." She took off something, the mithril that Thorin gave her, and handed it to him. "You don't have time to get your armor back on. Take this."

Fili took it, something hard settling in the pits of his stomach. Something was wrong, and she knew it. However, he hadn't found untruth when she spoke of his family. She never lied, but what was Belle hiding? That's when they heard it, Kili's scream of pain. Belle raced up the steps, and they both spotted Bolg, his hand around Kili's neck, with a blade ready to pierce his brother.

The hobbit seethed with rage, leaping at the orc, knocking him backwards as he released Kili, startled. A female elf appeared, rushing to his brother. It was the elf that Kili had given their mother's stone to. The one he adored for a reason Fili could not understand. Yet, as he saw the love in his brother's eyes, similar one's to his Uncle's upon seeing Belle unharmed at the Carrock and vice versa, he knew that she could make him happy and do her best to protect him and he her.

Fili redirected his attention to Belle, who had stabbed Bolg multiple times in the chest, finally ending the Defiler's line. Then he noticed the bruises around her throat and the wounds on her body. None were fatal, but they didn't stop him from wincing. Mahal, she was brave. She had been brave since the beginning, and he wished he could be as brave as her. He should have been the one to stand up, as heir to the throne. This was his fault. She stood up, catching her breath.

"I have to warn Thorin," she wheezed, something in her eyes he didn't like. She tossed him some bandages and a small jar of poultice. "Stay with your brother. He needs you right now."

Fili nodded, grinning at the hobbit. She understood what others did not, and she never blamed him for it. Her heart was one of the most beautiful things he encountered, and few could ever hate. As she got out of his reach, she yelled back, a smile upon her lips, "I wish you all the luck in the world!"

Why did that sound like a farewell? The uneasiness inside ached even more greatly, but so did the need to see to his brother as he tended to his wounds. Belle was strong, and she had saved them. He had no doubt she could save his uncle. One question came to his mind too late though, as he wondered at what cost would she save them?

..................................................

Kili wasn't the brightest, and he attracted trouble everywhere he went. Perhaps that was why he grew to care for the hobbit, for Belle. They surprisingly had a lot in common. One of those things they shared was wearing their hearts on their sleeves, even when the world was deemed cruel. He thought of her as family, even before she rescued Uncle. His uncle didn't catch on until it was nearly too late, but she was brave, and kind, and loyal...He yearned to call her sister, and wanted to protect her from the world.

She had even given him advice on Tauriel, before she had given away the Arkenstone, before Uncle went mad. She had encouraged him, believing he had a chance where she did not. She had believed no one could love her. In the Shire, no one would care of her death or if harm came to her. But, Kili did. The Company did, and little did she know, Thorin did.

And yet, Thorin hurt her. Kili couldn't understand why he did it. She only meant to help. He had seen the heartbreak when his uncle nearly threw her over the ramparts. He had seen how much she cared, so why couldn't Thorin? Kili wasn't very smart, and he could see what his uncle did not. Even now, she cared for their King. Even now she ran to him...

...................................................

Legolas could hardly believe the amount of strength in such a small creature as she pulled him away from danger, away from the falling ice where his feet had been. She nearly collapsed when he finally reached the top. This was the same hobbit that had given his father the Arkenstone. The one that had been brave enough to not only defy the dwarf king, but had been in battle. He had seen her.

Panic plagued Legolas, "Where is my father? Where is Tauriel?"

"Both are safe," she answered. "Thranduil is on his way, and he's cranky too." Legolas could not help but chuckle slightly at the attempt of humor. He did frown however, seeing the hobbit's injuries. "Your red-haired friend, Tauriel?" He nodded. "Is with the princes. Have you seen Thorin?"

He hesitated, "He's due west of her, fighting Azog."

"Thank you," the relief in her voice was palpable, as was the fear.

Legolas gripped her wrist as she turned to leave, glancing at her wounds, "You need aid my lady."

She grimaced, "So does he. Thank you, but I must go, for everyone."

She handed him his weapon and a piece of wood to lean on. Then she bowed, a smile placating her face as she ran. What could the hobbit have been thinking in those moments?

...................................................

Thorin watched as the traitor stood up from Azog's body, her hands bleeding. She was shaking, horrified, and covered in wounds that must have given her great pain. Good, she deserved them and more. He roared, furious that the witch had taken his revenge for him. She had no right! She blocked his attack, fear in her eyes as she called out his name, over and over, shaking her head. Good, she should be afraid.

"I should have let you die long ago you miserable traitor!" He shrieked, his hatred for the small creature burning. She said his name again, brokenly, pleading. No, she would get nothing from him. "You have no place amongst us! And you never will!"

She shuddered once more, looking away briefly as her eyes watered in pain. What right did she have to cry when he was the one betrayed?! When he had trusted her?! When she had stolen what was most precious to him?! Then she looked up, and something didn't feel right. Something about her eyes, they pierced him. Why did this feel wrong? She would deserve whatever befell her, right?

That's when she murmured something that caused his heart to twinge slightly. "I'm sorry I wasn't enough."

Thorin watched as the traitor finally stopped holding the blade a bay. Instead, she appeared resigned, a single tear and fearsome eyes glowing in the setting sun as his blade pierced her. The skies and ground already had been colored red and yellow, but these colors hurt him even more then what was on the battlefield. The golden glint of his blade in the light was no longer beautiful. In fact, it was nothing but cold, as was the crimson that clung to it. The world halted in that moment, lasting for what felt like an eternity as petrifying red seeped through layers of clothing. Her face was contorted with pain, and yet she smiled as she fell.

His vision cleared as she fell onto the ice, her pallor just as pale. Thorin gazed at the blade in his hands, the blood dripping warmly onto his hands. Her blood, it was the hobbit's blood. The burglar's. Belle's. Pain hit him as he saw the light starting to fade from her eyes. He collapsed onto his knees, reaching for her, calling her name. Mahal, what had he done?!

She swallowed, shivering and stuttering. "I-It's okay. You're safe now." She was comforting him, again. She was still looking out for him, even as she lay dying. "P-Please, live."

Thorin gasped. "B-Belle, please. I-I..."

A hand as cold as the ground underneath him, and as red as his own, cupped his cheek. Tears streaked down her cheeks, freezing on contact with her skin in the freezing air. She smiled, again. He knew that smile. It was the one she gave in sunlight. The one she gave when she forgave the boys for accidentally hurting her while training, to comfort them at night as she sang lullabies, as she laughed with them after a horrible joke was made. The playful one that promised so much hope no matter what odds they were against.  It was warmth, now frozen in death as her hand fell upon the ground.

"Belle?" he rasped. "Belle? Please, do not go where I can not follow. Please." Shadows flew over them. Gigantic birds with feathers that she had declared beautiful once. It had been after she saved his life, after the goblin caves. He had pushed her away then too, and she still came back. He smiled bitterly, rubbing her arms to keep her warm and to wake her as he had his nephews once. "Look Belle. The eagles are here...The eagles are here..."

He uttered words in both Westron and Khuzdul, begging and pleading for forgiveness. She remained still, blood no longer seeping but cold where he had pierced her heart, on her clothes, and on his hands. He vaguely heard the Company's voices as the truth hit him. He killed her. Thorin Oakenshield, killed Belle Baggins. Thorin's eyes widened, his hand outstretched for the one that had fallen. He touched her cheek, crying for the first time since Moria. It was the first time since he lost his grandfather, his father, and his brother. He cried for the hobbit that asked for nothing, and gave everything. The one with fathomless loyalty, honorable intentions, and the best heart of all. And he gave her up, for a stone?

He groaned her name, holding her body to his chest, screaming her name. He sobbed, not caring for the stares of the others. Not caring how even the elves seemed to mourn the loss of the kind soul. Not noticing how aged Gandalf became in the matter of seconds upon seeing the hobbit in Thorin's arms. Thorin pressed his forehead against hers, pleading with anyone, to bring her back.

"Uncle," Fili wheezed. "Is she...?"

Thorin sobbed, "I did this to her. I hurt her. I killed her. Her blood is on my hands..." No one spoke. Even Thranduil was struck speechless. No cruel words to be had. Yet, Thorin wished for them. He wanted to be punished.  Why wouldn't they? Why did the hobbit do that? "Why her? Why? After all I've done...?"

....................................................................

Bard hadn't known the hobbit long. He had feared her at first. She looked so fragile, so innocent and childlike. Yes, she was an adult hobbit, as he learned. In fact, she had turned fifty-one during her stay in Lake Town. Somehow, that meant she was middle-aged. She had forgotten what day it was, and rushed to give everyone presents as was tradition amongst her people. Apparently, hobbits give out presents on their birthdays, to show how much they appreciated living.

He had been shocked when she offered him one, for he had done nothing. Belle told him that he was the first one to help them in Lake Town, and she had been grateful for him that day. She even apologized for it not being as good as she intended, even though she was practically broke. Bard never knew what she got for the dwarves, but he couldn't stop his smile when he saw she gave him a handwritten storybook to read to his children. She admitted she wanted to be a storyteller one day, but didn't think she was good at it, so she made a book using normal hobbit tales except for one.

He found he liked her story the best, and so did his children. He loathed that it burned in Smaug's attack. Bard should have seen it as an omen or the worst to come, since only her story of the fifteen she gave have been destroyed. He should have stopped her from returning the dwarves when she gave the Arkenstone. He should have stopped her after she saved him and his family from orcs on her way to Ravenhill. But, he didn't.

Just like the prophecy, all the signs had been there.  And, just as before, he failed to stop the destruction of maybe not the purest of things, but one of the most important to many. Still, she would not be forgotten, as he told the story and his son and daughters passed it down, turning a simple story, by a small hobbit with a big heart, into a legend. So lived on the tale, of Bilbo Baggins, the bravest hobbit of them all.

 

 

 


	2. As the Years Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's Perspective after Belle's Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I wrote this in the afternoon, after class, between midterms...AGH!
> 
> It is nowhere near what I hoped it would be like, but I thought it kept the situation short and simple while making a point across. Yes, you are meant to cry. I feel very evil right now since I won't know what I got and I'm freaking out!
> 
> Cue maniacal laughter.
> 
> Now, please enjoy. If you don't like it, please look at the other wonderful stories on this site. Seriously, the authors here are awesome.

**_Fire crackled before them, making the King Under the Mountain wince as he was reminded of the day Smaug ruined everything. No, it had been the accursed gold, and the orcs, and servants of darkness...It had been him, as he almost destroyed everything that had ever mattered to him. He hated those things almost as much as he hated himself._ **

**_"What are you so afraid of?!" Dis screamed. "You finally have the Mountain! Father and Grandfather have been avenged. We're all safe and alive. What are you missing now?!"_ **

**_Thorin flinched at every one of her words, "Peace."_ **

**_"What?"_ **

**_"Peace Dis," Thorin croaked, finally looking her in the eye and not turning away. "I fear it as much as I yearn for it. I almost got Fili and Kili killed, I endangered everyone and over what? Gold? What value does it truly have?"_ **

**_Dis placed a hand on her brother's shoulder, "Thorin, you broke out of the gold sickness. You did what our grandfather couldn't, and you came back for us. Though, not completely it appears...It has to do with the hobbit, doesn't it?"_ **

**_"Belle," he wheezed. The name felt foreign on his tongue, like a lost memory. Yet, he never forgot. "I'm not the only one Dis. Gloin, Oin, Dwalin, Balin...Everyone has been lost. Dwalin gone off traveling with Nori. Dori is thinking of following them. Balin, Ori and Oin are off to Moria. Gloin and Bofur are barely settling down. Bifur..."_ **

**_Dis grimaced, "We all knew his wounds would get to him someday. Many of us thought it'd come sooner."_ **

**_"She helped him with it you know," Thorin murmured. "Especially after we escaped Mirkwood. She'd been afraid that the axe would rust. Did the boys ever tell you the barrels were her idea? She was terrified of water, but she went without even though we would've swum 'cause she was afraid something would happen to us...She saved us that day too..."_ **

**_His sister knelt before her brother and king as he watched the flames in the fireplace, almost consumed by the memories seared into the depths of what was left of his mind, "Thorin, she cared about you enough to give her life. I owe her for saving my sons' lives and yours. Do you truly believe she'd want to rot away? What was the last thing she said?"_ **

**_Thorin flinched, recalling Belle's blood on his hands and the smile she gave. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get her spirit to leave him alone. "She begged me to live."_ **

**_"That's right, to live, not just to survive, and you're barely doing even that."_ **

**_Thorin held his face in his face, "Dis, I think she might have been my One." Dis inhaled sharply as he continued. "After she died, everything has felt so empty, and the color around me has faded to black and white and gray. I killed her Dis, her blood on my hands is the only color I see." Dis hugged Thorin. Softly, he murmured, "How did you do it? Live on without Vili?"_ **

**_"I found something to live for," she mumbled. "A stupid overly-majestic royal pain in the butt of a brother, and the sun and moon of my life, better known as my sons."_ **

* * *

  


He found reasons to live again.

Looking back, Thorin was glad he didn't waste those years. For the time he was king, Erebor had flourished. His people were safe and content. Still, he did not feel as though he should remain there. When he abdicated, he traveled, working as a regular smith in the Shire. He had been reluctant to see Belle's grave, but he laid flowers at the entrance to the grave area for her whenever he passed by it. He had met a little lad called Frodo. The child reminded him of Belle with contagious happiness, and sadness...

The lad's parents drowned in the Brandywine. His mother had been one of Belle's cousins. It was wrong of him to think so, but the woman had been a lot like Belle too. They had different personalities, but in appearance they shared similar features and hair. Primula's had been a couple shades darker. Frodo inherited most of his looks from his father, but seeing the child felt like a piece of Belle was there. Thorin adopted him, not even surprised when he found out Frodo shared the same birth date as Belle. Still, every once in a he could not help wondering if Frodo looked like a cross between him and what could have been. After all, many people were actually surprised the lad wan't his, even if he did not have pointy ears or huge feet. Yes, Frodo looked like what could have been. Belle would have loved him.

Over the years, letters from friends stopped. Moria had been taken by orcs once more. Dain sent aid, but the mines had been irretrievable. There was no doubt that Balin, Oin and Ori had perished. Bofur had disappeared during a mining accident. His body was found in one of the lower areas. Reports aid it looked like he was asleep from a nap he would never wake from. Thorin met Gloin in Rivendell once with his son, Gimli, who had taken a shining to Thranduil's spaw-...son, Legolas. Kili married the she-elf, Tauriel, prompting a reestablished relatively benevolent relationship between dwarves and the fair folk. It had been slow and painful, but there was an understanding between the two peoples.

Nori had gotten married and had two girls. Beorn found himself a son, though no one knows from where, and Bard's son, Bain ruled over Esgaroth once his father retired. It was at Bain's wedding that Thorin overheard a woman in a public square telling the tale of Bilbo Baggins. Thorin had to explain that day why he was crying and smiling at the same time, for at least in the stories, Belle had a happy ending. Thorin ran into Thranduil, and found out the Elvenking was considering joining his wife in the Undying Lands. Oddly enough, Thorin wished him luck in whichever choice he made. Hatred and anger no longer sparked between them.

Dwalin turned out to live the longest out of all of them. By the time Frodo was full-grown, only he and Dwalin remained of the Company. All had lived their lives and found great joy. Yet, sadness lingered, for joy never lasted long in Thorin's life. A winter came, and he couldn't stop all the monsters that invaded the Shire...Frodo did not make it. All Thorin could see in the moment he held the dying boy in his arms, was another hobbit from years before. He had failed again....

Then there was the War of the Ring. Belle had given Gandalf the One Ring before she died. Thorin felt fear at learning she found it in the Goblin Caves, and wonder at how she was able to keep its whispers at bay. Then again, she had always been strong, and did not fall pray to such things...The wizard spent years trying to destroy it, but the forces around Mordor had been too thick and impregnable, even for the most powerful. Dis, Fili, Kili, and Gloin were killed in battle. Nori perished while spying on the enemy. Dori died in his sleep, his heart broken too many times. Bombur, as the fastest one of them, had been a messanger between armies and camps. His body was never found. Everything they had lived for was in danger before the deaths, so Thorin and Dwalin carried the Ring secretly to Mount Doom. The trinket called to him, much like the Gold Sickness had years ago. Every time it did, Thorin forced himself to see what atrocities he had done for other gold pieces such as it, at the blood of two innocents that covered his hands.

Dwalin had been forced to carry Thorin when the old King Under the Mountain could not walk any longer. When the Ring tempted him again with a chance to see his loved ones again in life, Thorin cast the cursed gold into the fires, screaming his heart out as he fell on his knees in anguish. His grandfather, his father, his brother, Balin, Oin, Gloin, Ori, Nori, Dori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Fili, Kili, Dis, Belle, Frodo...They all needed him and he had failed. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. He finally gave into his grief in those moments, using the last shreds of resistance to destroy the thing which stood for all that had taken from him.

In his last moments on the volcano, he heard Dwalin calling his name, telling the king what he had told a hobbit so long ago. _The eagles are here..._

Honestly, he fought so he could live like Belle wanted, but he was so tired. As he looked up, he saw a woman with pointed ears and amber eyes smiling warmyl, tenderly at him, tears in her eyes. Thorin smiled back, kissing her palm as he leaned into her warmth after so many frozen years, grateful for the years he was given. They had been miraculous, the good and the bad. Yes, he had lived, and lived well. Would he even have had those years if not for her sacrifice?

Her name was the last thing on his lips.

He found peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, this is sort of a prequel to something bigger. I am keeping it optional as an entity on its own though if people want to ignore what follows. It's okay, sequels in my experience, are rarely ever good.
> 
> Have a great day!


	3. Discontinued

For the last few months I've been dealing with health concerns and thanks to medical professionals, we found the problem, but my path to recovery isn't going to be easy. So, with my deepest apologies and regrets, I won't be able to continue this story.

I would like to thank everyone who read this story/series and let people know if they want to use any ideas from it or even the basic plot/continue it, they can.

I had a wonderful time and I hope those on this site did too.

Thank you so much!

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, first fan fic. I am also not a natural English speaker.
> 
> I really hope to make a sequel, if not two, with multiple chapters. However, I am very worried that if people do end up liking this, then they might not like the others. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear some comments, but if you can't or don't want to, I can make another bittersweet sequel just for kudos...Wow, am desperate.
> 
> Have a nice day!
> 
> ...............................................................................................................................................................................................
> 
> As of 2015-03-06, Some Things Were Meant To Be was posted! 
> 
> Woohoo? It's supposed to be a fluff chapter with comedy and a bit of adventure since some people might need a break from the angst. Don't worry though, angst is sitting by the majestic Thorin in the writer's set. He'll be back soon.


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